The Road To Cuckoo
by N.R Smith
Summary: Freya is an odd girl, even by magical standards, and often avoided. So when her parents suddenly tell her she will be attending Hogwarts after five years of home schooling, she can't help but be suspicious. These are troubling times, and with Grindlewald's power peaking, and a young Dark Lord in his sixth year at Hogwarts, the road home was never going to run smooth.
1. Girl with a White Curl

**~ The Road To Cuckoo ~**

 _A normal Summer's day in the family sitting room, and suddenly a young witch's life is turned upside down..._

Freya stared at her parents, unsure whether or not she had really heard them correctly. _Hogwarts_? They actually wanted her to attend a _School?_ For as long as she could remember, her mother and father had always pressed that there was nothing she could learn at school, that they couldn't teach her themselves. With her father being an Auror, and her mother a Healer, she had to admit, they pretty much had all corners covered when it came to magical teachings. So why the sudden change of heart?

"You want me to go away to school?" She said, sounding more sceptical than she intended. She glanced curiously between her parents unreadable faces, and her eyebrow arched. "You've changed your tune."

"We just feel," Her mother began carefully "that now you'll be studying for your NEWT's, it might be best if you have an actual establishment behind your schooling. Hogwarts is a wonderful place, Freya. Do well in your exams, and you'll have your pick at careers."

Freya scoffed kindly. "Mum, since when have you worried about me leading a successful lineage? Dad, please, you agree that things are fine as they are, right? I'm happy with you guys teaching me."

Her father smiled, his eyes crinkling lovingly, as he gently tugged a rebellious white lock, that had fallen loose from her plait. "Sorry, love, but this time I agree with your mother. Besides, it'll give you a chance to be around people your own age for a change. Make some new friends."

Freya pursed her lips at this. She didn't _like_ people her own age, or rather, if she cared to admit it, they didn't like _her._ Her father was being kind when he had said _'_ make some _new_ friends _'_ , she would have had to of had some _old_ ones first.

Her parents seemed to sense her hesitation at this, and sharing a look with her father, her mother quickly summoned a pot of tea from the kitchen. Hot tea makes everything better, you see, and that's a Healer's promise.

"It'll be different at Hogwarts, Freya." Her mother promised, pouring the tea into a cup and saucer. She passed Freya the sugar. "There's all sorts of different Witches and Wizards there, you're bound to get on with someone. You can write to us whenever you want, and we'll send you things, and come visit. I mean, if you really don't like it, and you aren't getting on with the other students, then we can talk about you coming home." Her mother said, but her father gave his wife the oddest of looks, a glance that they both tried to conceal from Freya, but it was already too late, she had seen, and if there had been doubt before that their reasoning for sending her away was sincere, it was down right arguable now.

"Well, we'll see at any rate." Her mother tried to cover awkwardly, spilling her own tea slightly into its saucer. "Your education is important."

"So it appears." Freya muttered flatly, glancing darkly across the sitting room toward the bay window. On the cushioned bench below, she spotted a fat, black cat snoring with the sun on his belly. Rolling her eyes at the sight, she smiled despite herself. "What about Jinx? Can he at least come with me?"

"I can't see why not." Her father said, pulling a copy of 'The Daily Prophet' from the morning's post.

Freya saw the words 'Grindlewald Closing In' flash across the front page, and decided a change of topic was needed. She clearly wasn't going to persuade them to let her just be, but maybe if she just made an effort up until Christmas, she could leave Hogwarts and it's inhabitants behind her by the New Year.

She rested her chin in her hand.

"How comes you haven't been dragged into all this stuff in Europe?" She questioned her father, nodding to the paper in his fingers, and indicating the headline. "Things don't seem to be calming down over there, if anything Grindlewald appears to be getting stronger."

Her father shrugged. "The Ministry know what they're doing, Freya." He answered cryptically. "Why, would you prefer me to be waltzing off all over Europe?"

"No." Freya said defensively. "I just thought the Ministry of Magic would feel that it had a duty of care to involve itself, is all. It is happening right on our doorstep."

"Look, just because the Ministry aren't outwardly seen to be doing something, doesn't mean they aren't, but they don't want to invite war, Freya. You can understand that, surely? These are very delicate times."

"So our Auror Office _is_ involved?"

Her father moved a finger across his mouth. "My lips are sealed."

 _Well that means yes,_ She thought, and he looked as though he'd realised his mistake, before he guiltily tried to hide his face behind the morning's headlines.

Freya straightened up. "But then why aren't you –?"

"No more politics, please." Her mother cut in, flicking her wand and abruptly clearing the table. She seemed suddenly very on edge. "All this talk of war is sending me into a tizzy. Freya, why don't you go upstairs and sort out your trunk from the attic? Your school acceptance letter should be arriving in a few days, and we'll be able to go shopping for supplies."

"But –?"

"Now, please. Your father and I need to talk."

Her mother fixed him with a look, and he nodded towards the stairs. "Attic. Trunk."

Freya huffed loudly. "Fine. Merlin forbid you treat me like an adult for a change."

And with that she stormed upstairs. Aware that her little outburst was more than a tad uncalled for – perhaps she could blame it on hormones? Her parents meant well, she knew they did, but they did have a bad habit of being far too overprotective. She was going to be of age soon, and what would they do then? Follow her around the country casting shielding charms wherever she went? The absurdity of it! Then there was all this business with suddenly sending her to Hogwarts, after _years_ of reciting the mantra that home schooling provided as good a standard of magical knowledge, as anything any education institution could provide. She wasn't just suddenly going to accept the notion, that they believed it would be good for her _prospects_. Her parents weren't like that, they had no real care for ambition, they just wanted her to be happy.

So why Hogwarts, and why now?

Freya shook her head, certain that she wouldn't be finding out anything from them any time soon, especially from the way they shut down after she gently challenged them.

"Bloody pair." She muttered to herself, beginning the well remembered fight with sticky cobwebs on the attic's staircase. Cringing inwardly, she knocked a spider from her shoulder.

Perhaps by September, things would be clearer.

 **R &R! **

**Please let me know what you think. I worry about new genres. This is my first Potter Fic, and I have been inspired by Fantastic Beasts, after being a mahooosive fan of the series in general.**

 **Just a little comment in the box below, and all is well :)**


	2. Between The Stacks

**~ The Road to Cuckoo ~**

"Right, just stay close by."

"Yes, Mum."

"I mean it, Freya, there can be some questionable figures down Diagon Alley. I don't want you getting yourself into trouble."

"Yes, Mum."

Freya's mother, known to the others in society as Eliza Ravenwood, did not seem to notice her daughter's indifference, and continued to steer them speedily through the hectic streets of London.

"We shouldn't have to get much, we have most of the things you'll need for school at home, it's just your uniform, and some books, I think... unless you wanted a broom?"

Freya stared at her mother with the most incredulous of smiles. "A _broom_? Are you mad? Honestly, mum, it's like you don't even know me sometimes. I hate Quidditch."

"Correction, you hate _watching_ Quidditch." Her mother quipped back, quickly pulling Freya through a large impatient crowd of Muggles. "You might enjoy _playing_ it? It's a good way to meet people at least."

Freya laughed. "Yours, and Dad's tireless efforts to find me friends, is really endearing, you know? Unnecessary, but endearing."

"We just don't want you feeling lonely, Freya. It's going to be a big change. You've never been away from home before"

"If you're so worried, let me stay."

"Freya..."

"I'm kidding." She smiled quickly, hoping she hid her lie well. Eliza stopped suddenly, gazing at her daughter with a thoughtful expression, or more accurately – a guilty one. They stood there in silence for what must have only been seconds, but felt a lot longer, until finally Freya shrugged. "Can't blame a girl for trying, Mum."

Eliza nodded understandingly.

"And you will, won't you? You will _try_?" Her mother pressed, giving Freya's shoulder a passing squeeze.

Freya looked at Eliza's hopeful expression and sighed resignedly. "I will."

"Thank you. Now come on, we have shopping to do."

Freya was then pulled forcibly into an ancient looking establishment, a run of the mill pub, known to most magical folk as 'The Leaky Cauldron' – famous in its own right. She had only ever been there once before, when she was very, very little, and her father had stopped by there with her for some breakfast.

The place hadn't changed, and she doubted it ever would.

"We can grab some luncheon here before we head home, if you would like? Grab your school bits and pieces, and then a nice soup, or sandwich... What do you think?" Her mother asked, leading her though the pub, and into a courtyard out the back.

"Would love to, I'm starving." Freya confessed, now staring at a brick wall, with – she wouldn't mind to admit – more than a little confusion, until eventually she remembered. "Oh yes, the famous entrance. Please tell me you remember the order of how to get in?"

"Of course." Eliza replied confidently, brandishing her wand. "I'm not _that_ old, you know. Senility hasn't claimed me yet."

"Never said it had, Mother-Dear." Freya rallied playfully.

Rolling her eyes, her mother turned, and raised her wand up to the wall, preparing to tap upon the first stone, only she hesitated, slowly turning back to Freya with a torn, and worried expression on her rounded features.

"There's going to be quite a few people around today, Freya. I know it can sometimes get a bit much for you, but... you will... you will try to be careful, won't you? Let me know if it's becoming too much, or if you're beginning to get certain... _feelings_? We don't want a repeat of the park, now, do we?"

 _No_. Freya thought. _No, we most certainly do not..._ She had tried so very hard to be good.

Freya shook her head silently. It was difficult to control herself – her _gift_ , as her father called it – when she was surrounded by others; especially if feelings were running high, but she would have to, she had little choice. Unfortunately her lack of social interaction didn't really prepare her for much, let alone situations like these, when she would held in an overcrowded, packed street.

"I'll keep a lid on it, Mum. Promise."

"Good girl." Eliza praised softly, touching Freya's cheek, before finally turning to tap the rusty coloured bricks behind her.

The wall fell back into an archway, and Diagon Alley was revealed.

[-]

As their shopping began, her mother had insisted that they went around together, but once Eliza caught sight of one of her work colleagues from St Mungos, Freya was able to quietly slip away, telling her mother she would meet her back at the Leaky Cauldron at one 'o' clock.

Freya drifted through the crowd with a lot more ease than she thought she would, actually finding it surprisingly easy to pretend she was the only one in the street, her senses dulled to a mind numbing hum, as she manoeuvred her way through the sea of people. Soon she managed to find a safe haven in the bookshop 'Flourish & Blotts', eagerly slipping inside to escape the traffic of the alley.

Having already bought her school books earlier, Freya made haste to explore properly, this time without her mother's nagging eye, reminding her she was on a time-limit. She headed up to the second floor's top most corner, her reason being that most interesting books might be hidden away from your average witch or wizard, and tucked into some dark, mysterious alcove. She was left feeling disappointed however, finding only worn out encyclopedias, and dusty second-hand volumes of 'Witches Household'. What she did find however, were a trio of boys about her age, all huddled suspiciously together at the back of one of the book aisles.

Freya tried to make out that she hadn't noticed them, pretending to find interest in a series of books about the rise and fall of the Giants: 'Windlemore the Not so Chatty', and 'How Goliath Ate David'.

 _Just look over this lot for a few moments, and then head downstairs,_ she thought, _you can't just runaway because someone's paying attention to you – well, not immediately, anyway – you'll look weird._

She tried not to feel bothered by the boy's presence, but she could tell they were well aware of her, even without looking. Their eyes like icy pinpricks in her spine. Her being there – for whatever reason – bothered them.

 _Probably up to no good. Stealing, or some other unwelcome behaviour, s_ he reasoned, pulling a book from the shelf and glancing at it briefly, before carefully placing it back. _Well, they're welcome to their life of crime, I've got more important places to be ._

"Not leaving on our account?" One of the boys, the one with thick, chocolate curls, suddenly appeared at her side, his long face grinning smugly, as dark eyes slowly appraised her form. He glanced at the books she'd been feigning interest in. "Giants, eh? Bit _dark_ for a nice girl like you?"

"Who said I was _nice_?" Freya replied coolly, aware that the others had also made their way over. She raised a brow. "Besides, I don't see how it's any business of yours, Mr...?"

"Lestrange." He replied, still smiling. "Ezra Lestrange. And these are my friends Julius Avery, and Tom Riddle."

Freya looked at each of the boys in turn, the blonde one smiled oddly, but the latter, _Tom Riddle_ , said nothing. His dark eyes seemed to see into her very soul, making her feel as though she'd stepped into a lake of ice. She noted a ring on his left hand that held a black stone, and a childish urge to scream suddenly ripped through her, thankfully leaving almost as quickly as it had arrived.

She fought back a shiver.

"Yes, well." Freya began. "It's been a pleasure to meet you, and all that, but I really must be going."

"Wouldn't want to keep Mother waiting." Riddle murmured.

She gapped at him. "Excuse me?"

Riddle refused to reply, he simply continued to gaze at her in that haunting way he had. She swallowed hard.

 _He can't have just read my mind, surely? Not without using a wand at least?_ She thought, utterly horrified by the idea. _What is it those people are called again? Leal-mens?Legilmines? No, they were so rare, it had to be a guess, of course it did... right?_

She quickly turned her shocked look into a scowl, attempting not to appear too unnerved by his accurate prediction, and pointedly crossing her arms, she stuck her nose into the air.

"Exactly, Mr Riddle." She replied swiftly, turning on her heels. "So do enjoy the rest of your day, won't you gentleman."

She began making her swift getaway out of the stacks, only stilling at the end of the aisle when Lestrange boldly called to her.

"Manners, girl! You didn't tell us _your_ name?"

"Ask Mr Riddle." She called back over her shoulder. "He seems to know everything else."

Freya stormed out of 'Flourish and Blotts', actually welcoming the crowd, and the cover it provided. _What a creepy trio._ She didn't really understand what she had just walked in on, but she knew she didn't like them, not one little bit. The expressions on their faces had made her skin crawl – especially the third one, Riddle – there was something not quite right about that boy.

Rolling her eyes, she growled under her breath. "I bet they bloody go to Hogwarts. That would be just my rotten luck. Stuck in a castle with those creepy three."

Freya stormed through the river of witches and wizards toward 'The Leaky Cauldron', trying to remain calm, but no matter how she tried, she could feel herself getting more, and more upset.

 _Come on Freya, pull yourself together._

It wasn't until a man accidentally knocked into her, and suddenly began bellowing at the top of his lungs, that he hated his wife's hat – seemingly for no reason – that Freya knew she needed to take a break, and quickly sought refuge in a small empty alcove.

"Breathe, Freya, no need to cause a riot." She said to herself, inhaling deeply.

 _My feelings are my own. Breathe, visualise, control._ _Breathe, visualise, control._ The mantra her father had taught her long ago – sadly, it didn't always help.

Freya soon forgot about time, and meeting her mother for lunch, and when Eliza did find her daughter, she found her shaking uncontrollably down a forgotten side alley, muttering incoherent words, and sobbing with her face in her knees.

They never did have sandwiches and soup.

 **R &R!**

 **Trying to get this story rolling, I appreciate the first chapter wasn't super interesting, I'm hoping this will incite some thoughts. Please let me know if I'm doing okay. It really don't want to go too AU, so reviews would help keep me in line.**

 **Thank you to 'The Aspiring Cynic' my first reviewer, I shall reply to you :)**

 **Night night x x x**


	3. Purple Stars

**~ I've gone over some typos in the last chapter, and hopefully made it flow a little better. Some fluff for you now, let me know what you think ~**

 **~ The Road To Cuckoo ~**

Freya stared at the vintage trunk at the foot of her bed, thinking how sad it was, that a person's life could be packed away into such a relatively small object. It hadn't taken long either, even without help. Her mother had offered her assistance, of course, but Freya wanted to do it herself, hoping that the act of packing might finally steady her nerves. She hadn't even left for Hogwarts yet, and she was already feeling homesick.

"Only you left to pack up, Jinx." She smiled softly, gazing at the black cat that had laid himself across her bed.

Running her fingers gently through his fur, Jinx arched his back against her touch.

"I'm counting on you, you know?" She warned him, sitting down, and pulling him into her lap. "We've got to stick together. I suppose there's a chance that we _might_ like it there, right?"

He blinked up at her twice, his face said it all.

"Well that's not very positive, Jinx." Freya scolded affectionately. "And we've got to be positive. We've promised, for Mum and Dad's sake."

He continued to look very unimpressed, but that might have just been because he was a cat, and cats tended to look that way most of the time, anyway. She yawned, sliding him carefully back from her lap, and moving to change into her nightdress.

As Freya pulled the garment over her small frame, she caught sight of her features in the looking-glass, and cringed. She looked ill. She still hadn't fully recovered from what happened over a week ago.

Diagon Alley.

She barely remembered her mother leading her out of the crowd, but she knew it hadn't been easy. To get home, they'd been forced to use the Floo Network, and her mother hated travelling that way, played havoc with her allergies, she said.

Freya huffed loudly.

If only those stupid boys hadn't gotten her all riled up, then none of it would have happened. As it was, members of the public were forced to intervene when the wizard who had touched her proceeded to set his wife's hat on fire, which wouldn't have been that bad, only she was still wearing it at the time. No one got hurt luckily, and through it all, Freya remained blissfully unaware, but still, it wasn't nice to hear about. To know you had caused something so destructive, even if it was really a small thing, was not an empowering thought.

 _Freak_ , she thought, staring into tired blue eyes. She looked like a ghost standing there in her long white night dress, and matching snowy tendrils. Her hair was far too long for her height, which was why she would often plait it. Freya supposed she could have just cut it all off, but she had always had long hair, and she was a creature of habit.

Besides, there was something oddly comforting at the thought of always having something you could hide behind.

"Time for bed, love. Big day tomorrow."

Freya turned, spotting her father's face, as he poked it happily through the doorway.

She smiled. "I know, was just making sure everything was packed."

Nathaniel Ravenwood, Freya's father, eyed her trunk thoughtfully.

"You have your robes?"

"Yes."

"Wand?"

"In my coat pocket."

"Books?"

"Of course."

"Parchment, quills, scales – "

"Everything is packed, Dad." Freya giggled indulgently. "My organisational skills have yet to see defeat by another, so trust me when I say, everything is ready to go. Well, except for Jinx. He's not going to like travelling all that way in his basket."

"He'll cope, I'm sure." Nathaniel smiled, stepping eagerly into the room. He gazed around it fondly. "You know, this place hasn't been decorated for a long time. How about we give it a bash, you know, when you get back? What do you think?"

Freya nodded. "Sounds like a plan. I think, I've had those stars since I was four." She noted, eyeing her purple wallpaper with some thought. She frowned. "Or was it five?"

"Merlin if I know." Her father laughed, running a hand through his receding hair line. "I forget what I've had for breakfast most days."

"Today you had bacon and eggs." Freya noted, eagerly pulling back her bed covers, and clambering on in. "Followed by fruit cake, and a sneaky shot of Fire Whiskey."

Nathaniel's smiled widened. "Ah yes! Today's was a bit of a treat. Especially that cake, it was a belated birthday gift from your Auntie Rhona."

"Auntie Rhona does make nice cakes."

"That she does. I'll wrap some up for you to take on the train tomorrow, if you'd like?"

The mention of leaving, had made Freya's stomach unexpectedly sink, and she nodded silently.

"You know," Nathaniel began gently, perhaps noting his daughter's sudden change in mood. "When I first arrived at Hogwarts, I made a complete fool of myself. I had absolutely _weeks_ of name calling, and that was just from the teachers."

He tittered happily at his joke, and Freya looked up from her lap, intrigued. "What did you do?"

"Well you see, I wasn't the confident, sweet piece of toffee you know, and love today. I was a shrimpy looking thing, always stuttering my words, and tripping over things."

Freya suppressed a giggle. "And this little concoction made you, what, exactly...?"

"Well, we had only just entered the castle, and this boy – I don't remember his name – had been winding me up about the sorting ceremony, and I got so nervous, that by the time my name was called, and I'd walked up to the Sorting Hat, I just stood there and vomited in front of the entire school."

"Oh my." Freya laughed. "You made an impression, then?"

"Yes. Though I would have thought, not a very good one." Nathaniel clapped his hands together enthusiastically. "Still, it all worked out, I was sorted into Hufflepuff where I met your mother, and the rest, as they say, is history."

"She decided to date the child who threw up in front of the entire school? Such a martyr"

"I had a certain charm. This was a few years later, mind. I had time to turn her head, as it were."

Freya rolled her eyes. "Such the player. So. What house do you think _I'll_ be sorted into? Any tips for getting the right one?"

"Try not to worry. Whatever house you get will be the right one for _you_ , and they all have their own little perks, anyway."

Freya tilted her head at her father. "Why do I feel like your being overly nice?"

Nathaniel raised his hands defensively. " _Would I?_ Besides, whatever house you get will be all the better for having you in it, now lie down."

Again rolling her eyes, Freya consented, snuggling down as her father drew up the covers. She smiled. "You know, as a sixteen-year-old, I'm probably a little old for you to be tucking me in."

"Nonsense. Besides, I'm not going to be able to do it for a while."

"I'll be back before you know it."

"I know." He held her gaze for a moment, and Freya thought she saw something other than a worried father looking back at her from those eyes, but then he blinked, and it was gone, and then he was bending low, to press warm lips tenderly against her forehead. "Be safe, Freya. Remember, we're only an owl away."

She frowned up at him disappointed. "Aren't you coming tomorrow?""

Nathaniel sighed guiltily, straightening up quickly from the bed. "Sorry, love, I have to be at work. Your mothers taking you when she gets back from her shift. I'm sure she'll fuss enough for the both of us."

"I guess." Freya frowned, trying not to look too upset. She hadn't expected this to be goodbye.

"Sweet dreams." Her father murmured softly, hesitating in the doorway. He turned back to her. "You're going to be fine, Freya. Honestly, I think you're really going to love it there."

She smiled. "Thank you, Dad."

He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a few more seconds, before he carefully pulled the door shut, and she heard the latch click softly into place. She sighed, Freya could already hear Jinx's snores rumbling up from the bottom of the bed, and she soon found herself more than ready to join him, as her eye lids got heavier, and heavier with each passing exhale.

Tomorrow was going to be an long day, after all.

 **R &R!**

 **Hope you're enjoying, not many reviews, but I suppose it's early days, and this is just a fluff chapter. You're not writing to tell me it's terrible, so that's always good.**

 **Thank you to 'nicsnort' who reviewed :)**


	4. Goodbyes

**~ The Road To Cuckoo ~**

The night was black, and the world was silent. Freya stared around her, having not the faintest idea where she was, only that she was in a street, one she couldn't remember ever being to in her life, and she was alone. No. Not alone, there was an ivory-haired man standing not so far away, he had his back to her, but if she just leant a little closer...

"Hello?"

He didn't answer, but that might have been because when she'd spoken, no sound had parted from her lips.

Freya shivered, frowning as she drew her arms tightly across her chest. What was this place? Where was she? Feeling suddenly bold, she touched the man's shoulder, and he turned. What she saw, forced the air from Freya's lungs, for he was no longer 'the man' she had been watching, he was Tom Riddle, and he was laughing at her; a horrible, terrifying, high pitched laugh...

Freya screamed.

She suddenly found herself on the hard floor of her bedroom, her skin slick with sweat, and her bed clothes twisted painfully around her legs.

She groaned.

"Freya?!" Her mother's voice called worriedly from downstairs. "Freya!?" A march of footsteps followed, and soon Eliza Ravenwood was framed in the door way of her daughter's room, looking extremely troubled as she took in the chaotic scene in front of her. Spotting Freya's small form on the floor, she rushed to her daughter's side. "Darling, are you alright? You were calling out?"

"Just a bad dream." Freya mumbled apologetically, pulling herself shakily back onto her bed. "Didn't mean to worry you."

"Don't be silly." Her mother soothed, her gaze darting over the room as if she expected to find something untoward. "I was just worried you'd hurt yourself, darling. You're sure you're alright?"

Freya nodded half-heartedly. "Probably just nerves, or something I ate yesterday. You know how dreams can be." She glanced away from her mother, noting the sliver of sun that had succeeded in sneaking through her curtains. She sighed. "Looks like I should be getting up anyway."

"I was just about to wake you." Eliza agreed gently, looking at her watch. "We've got two and a half hours before your train leaves, so we really should get moving. It's going to take at least an hour, just to get that lazy cat of yours into his basket."

Freya giggled, immediately lowering her voice. "I think we may have to slip him a sleeping draught before the journey. You know how he hates to be confined. The train's going to be a nightmare otherwise."

"Indeed." Her mother nodded. "I swear that cat believes he's royalty. Right, you get yourself ready, and I'll deal with his highness. I'm sure I've got some draught left over in my supplies. He'll never see it coming."

"Good luck." Freya smiled.

Stroking her cheek as she passed, her mother left the room, and Freya, once again left to her own devices, forced herself to forget about the dream, and attend to her morning needs.

After all, her mother would not be happy if they missed her train.

[-]

"You seriously want me to run at a _wall_?" Freya questioned fiercely, sounding thoroughly appalled. "Are you sure that's the way to get to the platform, because if you're wrong – "

"For the last time, _yes_!" Her mother sighed, gesturing wildly at the pillar between King Cross' 9th and 10th platforms. "I haven't just been telling you this for the last few weeks, for the good of my health!"

"I thought you were pulling my leg!" Freya laughed. "I mean, won't the Muggles notice?"

"Oh, they don't notice anything. Too busy rationalising the world, or as it currently stands; _blowing it up_." Eliza said, nodding toward a group of Muggle children with suitcases. "Poor little things are being shipped out of the city, it's become so dangerous for them."

Freya frowned grimly. "The bombs? From those sky carriages?"

"Planes, dear. That's how Muggles fly." Eliza informed her daughter lightly, throwing a pitying smile toward the evacuees. She shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder how we stand back and do nothing for them, but I suppose the Ministry knows what it's doing. Now, will you grow a back bone, and run at that blasted pillar."

"Fine." Freya puffed. "But if I crash, or end up knocking myself out, I'm staying with you in London."

"Fine." Her mother rallied smugly. She waved her hand. "Go on. Close your eyes and pelt it if you're nervous. It's good fun if you can get some speed up."

Freya rolled her eyes, her mother was suddenly far too over excited by the whole thing. She had a funny feeling, that Eliza would have loved to have done this years ago.

 _Here goes nothing_ , She thought, and she took off blindly, holding her breath and praying that any impact wouldn't hurt. It was only when a fresh rush of chattering voices reached her ears, that Freya opened her eyes again.

Platform 9 ¾. She'd made it.

"There. That wasn't so hard now, was it?" She heard her mother say from behind her.

"Define _hard_." Freya grinned, busy taking in the sight of her now fellow students, carrying their cases, waving wands, grabbing packages and saying goodbye to their families. She moved her gaze toward the train. "The Hogwarts Express?"

"Only the best for Hogwarts Students." Her mother beamed proudly. "I have to admit, I'm a little jealous of you."

"You're welcome to go in my place?" Freya offered, only half joking.

Eliza's features softened. "Now come on, what did we say? We're going to be...?"

"Positive." Freya replied flatly.

"Exactly. Darling, I know this is a really big step for you, but you must trust me when I say it's for the best. You're going to love it there, I know you will."

"Yes, that's what Dad kept telling me too."

"Your father's right. Look, I know why you're worried about your little... issue, but I trust you. I know you can control yourself."

Freya frowned, her mother sounded dismissive. "Tell that to the woman whose husband set her on fire."

Eliza pouted. "Admittedly a minor set back." She conceded, looking slightly awkward. "But you'd been doing _so_ well before that."

"I hadn't been near _people_ before that." Freya argued. "Well, not crowds anyway. Hogwarts is a school, there's going to be hormones, and emotions flying all over the place. How am I supposed to ignore that?"

"Breathe, visualise, control." Her mother said simply. "Just keep practising. You're still young, Freya, eventually it'll all fall into place. I promise."

"Either that, or they'll lock me away in Azkaban and throw away the key."

"Oh, now you're just being dramatic." Eliza scolded affectionately, giving her daughter's shoulder a playful shove. "Now come on." She bent low, lightly gripping the top of Freya's arms. "Tell me you're going to have a great time."

"I'm going to have a great time."

"And you're going to send us lots of letters."

"I'm going to send you lots of letters."

Her mother beamed, her raven locks falling messily across her face. "That's my girl" She pressed her lips tightly against Freya's cheek, lingering longer than normal. "Be safe, my darling." And then she let go, rallying around their trolley. "Come on, lets get you on the train. I've put a purse with some money in at the front of you trunk, try not to spend it all in your first term. Oh, and don't forget this one." Eliza passed Freya the basket with a heavily snoring Jinx inside. "He'd be simply insufferable if you left him behind."

Freya took the basket into her arms. "What about my trunk?"

"Oh there's people to take care of that. Don't you worry." Eliza smiled.

She wasn't crying, but Freya could tell that she wanted to. Not wanting to make the goodbyes any harder, she forced herself to smile back, stepping up quickly to the train doors. "See you soon, Mum. I'll write to let you know I got there safe."

"Please do, Freya. I love you, darling."

"Love you too."

Soon the train was filling up with students, and Freya's wish to get a compartment facing the platform died pretty quickly. The goodbyes that had been said, would have to do.

"Come on, Jinx. Lets find somewhere to sit."

Freya made her way hastily up the carriage, determined that she was going to find an empty compartment to hide herself away in. It was as she was about to give up hope, that she was jostled by a bunch of excitable third years, and forced to stop and readjust Jinx's basket, that she spotted the emptiest of the rooms she'd seen.

 _Three. I can cope with three_. She told herself, taking a deep, steadying breath.

She raised her hand, and knocked on the window.

 **R &R!**

 **Okay, finally we are on the train! Whoop! Wonder how the journey goes?**

 **Thank you again to my reviewers! I really appreciate it, so guys if you can spare a moment, it would be welcomed. Just a few words in that box down there :)**

 **Stay tuned! x**


	5. Blood & Lies

**~ The Road To Cuckoo ~**

The train chattered noisily around her, as Freya, with difficulty, slid the door to the compartment open, Jinx's basket rocking precariously in her arms. The three students inside looked up abruptly at her invasion, and she saw they had been looking over the morning's issue of 'The Daily Prophet', with the tagline: Inferi in Paris.

She smiled awkwardly. "Um, I'm really sorry, but everywhere else seems to be full, or horrendously over-crowded. Would you mind if I..?"

Freya nodded subtly to the spare seat by the door, and the three had barely managed to conceal their disappointment of having to share their space, before one, a boy, gave a begrudging nod.

"Thank you." She sighed. To be honest, she was just relieved she wouldn't have to search further up the train, and eagerly dropped into her seat. "I'm Freya by the way. Freya Ravenwood."

She stared at her fellow travellers, two boys and a girl who were about her age, but they said nothing. Instead two looked mildly annoyed that what ever they had been chatting about, her presence had forced to a close.

 _Oops._

Freya tried another tactic, determined to be friendly, and keep to her promise that she would try. "So you're Slytherins?" She said, noting the green, and serpent detail on their robes. "Would you recommend it as a good house, or – "

"I'm sorry, _who_ are you?" The girl spat suddenly, sounding anything but. "Only, I don't seem to remember ever seeing you before, and you're a little overgrown for a first year."

"I've already told you who I am." Freya replied politely, however, she was unable to keep the edge out of her tone.

"Yes." The girl scoffed back. "But what are you _doing_ here Freya Ravenwood?"

"Currently, I am sitting." She answered flatly. "Difficult as that is to grasp."

She made to move, deciding that this choice of seat was a mistake, but a low chuckle distracted the two girls, and Freya found herself glaring at the the boy who had yet to acknowledge her.

He shook his head indulgently. "Don't mind Ara, Miss Ravenwood, she can be a tad tetchy at the best of times. Though she means well, I'm sure." He fixed his companion with a look. "I'm Alphard by the way, and this is my brother Cygnus, and our delightful cousin, Araminta. We are of 'The Noble House of Black'." He finished, waving his hands theatrically.

Freya couldn't help but notice the hint of contempt his voice held, and although Alphard smiled, she found it to be strained.

"I've heard of your family." She acknowledged, ghosting a smile at the other two. Though she begrudged it to Araminta. "My father's mentioned you once or twice."

What she didn't say, was that it was to do with the unmentionable treatment of Muggles, and certain shall we say, _embarrassing_ , artefacts found in the Black's family home.

"And who is your father?" Araminta cut in. "Ravenwood isn't a name I've heard of before. It's not _Muggle,_ is it?

Freya lifted her chin, unhappy with Araminta's tone. "My Grandfather was Muggle-Born, so that is likely where the name comes from, yes."

"How unfortunate." Ara continued. "Still, it can't always be helped. Even the strongest family lines have set backs from time to time."

"I don't really see how being Muggle-Born is a _set back_." Freya glowered, gritting her teeth to the point her jaw ached.

She was really getting the urge to slap that smug smile right off of Araminta's perfect face.

 _Breathe, visualise, control._

The latter's grin widened. "Don't you? How odd. We were just saying how we think this Grindlewald character has got the right idea. If – "

"Ara!" Cygnus abruptly barked, finally finding his voice. His tone was clipped and hard, as though it stood on the foundations of a thousand years of good breeding. "I do loath talk of politics, cousin, and I would think that now is not the place." He said meaningfully, giving Freya a sweeping once over. "Clearly Miss Ravenwood does not share your views. For now, leave it at that."

Araminta pouted, but a word from her cousin was enough to send her into silence. Cygnus picked up 'The Prophet' and began reading it alone, uninterested in what anyone else had to say any more. Freya looked at Alphard, who in turn offered her the briefest of shrugs, and turned his interest to the passing countryside.

Apparently that was that. The conversation had diffused as quickly as it had begun. Freya was just grateful that she had decided to wear her robes onto the train, there was no way she would have asked for help from these three in finding a place to change.

They travelled in silence.

 _Well this is going to be a fun journey_ , she thought. _Maybe I should have brought some sleeping draught for myself._

Then she thought about being unconscious in the presence of her travel companions, and conceded that maybe it wouldn't be the best of ideas _. Araminta might gut me where I lay, what with all the vile, disgusting_ Muggle Blood _that's running in my veins._ Honestly, Freya knew of Pure-Blood extremists, but she expected better from people her own age. They weren't living in the Dark Ages, after all.

 _I need to get out of here._

"I'm going to stretch my legs." She announced suddenly, placing Jinx's basket down on the seat. She caught a wave of excitement ripple off of Araminta, as she spied the sleeping feline, and with a sinking feeling, Freya felt the ill intent behind it. Leaning forward, Freya bit back bile, bending herself down to Ara's height, as she casually murmured, "Listen, I'm really hoping that we just got off on the wrong foot, but I swear, if you touch my cat, we are going to have some serious problems. Is that understood?"

Araminta blanched. "I wasn't – "

"You were." She replied darkly. "Like me, don't like me, I really don't care, but leave my cat alone." Freya warned, feeling the familiar whirring of emotion inside her, that meant things were about to get out of hand. She took a breath. "I mean it, Araminta."

"Your cat will be fine." Alphard intervened, giving his cousin a disapproving glare. "I give you my word."

Freya didn't really know if that counted for much, but she trusted Alphard more than she did the other two, and he seemed sincere enough. She nodded. "Thank you."

Freya slid eagerly into the waiting corridor, rocking hazardously along it as she made her way to the open window of a train door. She sighed, resting her head against the frame. The breeze was helping, she could feel herself calming down.

 _Breathe, Freya_.

Up ahead she could make out the door to the last carriage. This one was more ornate than the others, she noted, and had a large resounding 'P' embellished on the front.

 _P for perfect,_ she joked.

Closing her eyes, Freya enjoyed the warmth the September sun brought her, it's heavy rays blanketing her face in it's heat. She started to feel that it would be nicer to stand there for the remainder of the journey, than to sit in comfort, in the delightful company of her fellow passengers.

Freya heard a door open in the distance, but barely paid it any mind, still too busy soaking up the sun to care about such minor things. It was only as a dark shadow fell across her elvish features, bringing the cold with it, that her gaze forcibly snapped open.

" _You_." She gasped, suddenly staring up into the deep, bottomless well of Tom Riddle. Her stomach plummeted. " _You_ –?"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" He answered politely, staring at her in confusion, and throwing her immediately off guard.

Freya just gaped at him; was he joking?

Noticing for the first time that there was a girl hovering dutifully at his shoulder, she pressed on, not wanting to appear like a complete idiot.

"What do you mean ' _Do I know you_?'" Freya scoffed lightly. "We've met before. That day in Diagon Alley, remember?"

"How puzzling." He said lightly. "I have absolutely no recollection. Perhaps you are confusing me with someone else?"

"No." Freya replied firmly. "It was you."

Tom's brow furrowed in thought, as though he really, truly had no idea who she was, and gave his head another subtle shake.

"I'm really am very sorry. Perhaps we can talk later, and see where this confusion has come from?But I'm afraid that now, I must attend to my Prefect duties." He smiled pointedly. "Excuse me."

Freya stared after him flabbergasted. Why on earth would he stand there and pretend he had never met her before? What could he possibly hope to achieve through it? She watched him as he glided purposefully down the train, checking each of the compartments thoroughly as he passed.

 _Rotten snake. I'm not mad._ She thought to herself. _I'm not. He was there._

Riddle was different too, she realised, not so detached, or cold. That day in Diagon Alley, he'd really frightened her. The warmth he had feigned a moment ago was never once present on that day, and she found herself unable to accept this polite character he was playing.

And then there was the dream.

Freya shuddered, reasoning that perhaps it would be best not to dwell on such things. She turned, no longer feeling comfortable being so exposed in the corridor, and sought solace in her compartment.

She entered, happy to find that Jinx was still alive and well, and sleeping happily.

"Feeling any better?" Alphard, asked. Apparently he'd taken more note of her feelings when she'd left, than she'd realised.

She frowned down at her hands. "I have absolutely no idea."

And with that she fell silent, hugged Jinx's basket tight to her torso, and prepared to wait out the rest of the journey. Frustratedly puzzling over the question, of why a sixteen year old boy, would need to hide behind masks.

 **R &R!**

 **You like? Thank you for my review 'Guest', sorry I couldn't reply personally to you, maybe next time? Still, it wasn't exactly what you were expecting, eh?**

 **You will learn more about Freya's power. Though some of you might be able to guess?**

 **It may be a few days before I can update again, but hopefully by the end of the weekend? Reviews help authors type faster XD**

 **Take care xx**


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